


Got My Number

by McDanigan



Series: All About Love [2]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Bottom Lee Hoseok | Wonho, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Male-Female Friendship, Mentioned Lee Hoseok | Wonho, Mixed Martial Arts, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McDanigan/pseuds/McDanigan
Summary: When Hoseok first met her, she was trying to choke a man between her legs– her legs encircling the man's neck to lock his arms and head. It was an understatement to say he was shocked the first time he saw her doing atriangle choke. He knew "shock" barely made up for it. What it did to him, in every sense of the word, was lock him in place, agape, and a bit… afraid. No. In awe.The first time he saw her wasn't the last.
Relationships: Lee Hoseok | Wonho/Original Female Character(s)
Series: All About Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675315
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Got My Number

_If you need someone,  
Who can love you while he's gone,   
Baby, you got my number,   
Got my number... _

It was 2 AM when Hoseok reached his apartment, and while the boys stayed in Jooheon's house, he wasn’t intoxicated enough not to go home. 

Opening the door to his room, he looked at his phone and checked for messages– something that had quickly become his habit. He shut the door with his feet as he thumbed through his inbox.  
  


**hyung, u coming?**

**LEE HOSEOK GET UR ASS RIGHY HERE!**

***RIGHT**

**hyung, you left your wallet**

  
"Shit. Ah," he exclaimed, letting himself fall on his bed with a thud. He covered his eyes with his bonnet in frustration. He was so sleepy, but something at the back of his head kept on buzzing at him, giving him a headache. 

He took off his bonnet with a deep sigh and found himself opening his inbox— and clicking on one particular message. 

His heart beat rapidly when, as if by telekinetic powers or whatever it was called, three dots appeared at the end of a broken conversation, making him jump from his bed. The gray dots moved, wiggling inside the chat box, mirroring his now crazy heartbeat. 

And then, just like that, the dots disappeared like bubbles popping one by one in the air. 

He shook his head in frustration. 

_Fuck it._

He messaged her. 

**Where are you?**

  
Three dots reappeared, but instead of dissolving, the dots transformed into letters that made his heart stop a beat before pumping fast. Too fast.  
  


**Gym  
**

**Wait for me.**

It didn't even matter that he had no cash. He searched his pocket, found a few coins, grabbed his bag and his bonnet, and left. 

It was 30 minutes later when he reached the gym he used to go to, pre-debut. He half-walked, half-ran along the cold, barren streets, afraid he'd lose her if he wasted a second. 

He found himself rushing through the open door, his eyes on the figure huddled on the bench at the corner of the small gym. 

Hoseok willed himself to calm down, worried his anxiety for her would appear as desperation. He exhaled just as deeply as he filled his lungs with air before walking towards her. 

The gym was empty save for the few equipment inside, the mats, some towels, and the coach instructor, who had become their friend, sleeping at the back of the room. 

He approached her slowly, afraid he would frighten her if he came bursting in, bombarding her with questions, asking her what happened, was there something wrong, why was she here, and other questions that were, in part, not for him to ask about. Hell, what was his business? What was he doing here? Why–

Just then, she looked up at him. 

His heart felt soft inside his chest, like jelly waiting to dive down his stomach. She looked even more beautiful if it was possible, embraced like that in an oversized hoodie, her shoulder-length, brown hair slightly peeking, her puffy eyes still pretty behind a pair of eyeglasses.

She'd been crying if her now red button nose was any indication, and it broke his heart. He knelt in front of her, resting his arm on one knee.   
  
"Do you really have to wear that bonnet?" she suddenly asked, frowning.

He smiled, though slightly confused by her question. "Why?" 

She sniffed. Her voice sounded nasal to him, breaking his heart a little bit more. "That pretty face is so distracting." She half-laughed, half-groaned, jokingly putting her hand on his face as if she was crumpling it. 

Hoseok grinned. He knew she was trying to tease him, as if he was the one who needed a good laugh. He shook her hand away, trying to smile at her. 

"I just came home from Jooheon's party–" 

"Great!" She wet her lips.

"–Left my wallet, but," he paused, " _ramyeon_?" he asked, adding an "If you want," to the equation. He was hopeful, but he didn't want to force her. 

"Oh no, no," Hoseok crooned as her eyes filled with tears. He was about to place his hand on her head as she started tearing up again but thought against it. He just smiled at her, waiting for her to answer, when all he was truly feeling was torn— not knowing what to do and wanting to do everything at the same time.

She nodded yes to _ramyeon_ , wiping her eyes beneath her glasses with her hoodie sleeves. He sighed. 

Minutes later, two big bowls of convenience store _ramyeon_ were steaming in front of them, warming her already red face. 

He watched as she slurped on the noodles with a plastic fork, not minding how hot the thing was. He laughed as he split his chopsticks in two. 

"You should eat, you know, instead of laughing at me," she commanded over a mouthful of _ramyeon_ , glaring at him so adorably as if he committed a crime.

"Yes, Ma'am." He did as she said, spooning some soup into his mouth.

They were quiet for some time, comfortable in the silence they shared alongside the gentle hum of the wind hitting their face as they sat opposite each other on a bench outside the convenience store. From where they were sitting in the uncrowded part of _Hangang_ Park near _Han_ River, the silence was something welcoming rather than awkward, something, he knew, they both appreciated as they ate and minded their own business. 

As she was enjoying her food, he noticed the tattoo on her left hand near her wrist. He was about to slurp on the _ramyeon_ , when he noticed her hand was also red. Just then, a memory tagged his mind. She was left-handed, why wouldn't she use her left hand? Did she over do herself boxing?

He set his chopsticks down and slowly reached for her hand to inspect it. 

"Ow!" she exclaimed, and he almost jumped from his seat when she flinched. 

"What happened to your hand?!" 

"My punch… slipped," she said, her words so quick to her defense. Looking down, she dug on her bowl of soup with her fork. 

He straightened on his seat. Something happened. He was sure of it.

"Eun-aaa?" Even to him, his voice sounded almost… motherly. If only it didn't boom like a drum into the chill night to dig up what she was clearly hiding. 

He observed her as she put her fork down and rearranged her hoodie, scratching her nose again– something she used to do when she was near tears.

"I punched him." 

He took his time breathing, controlling himself from getting up and running to search for that little–

"Did he… do something…" 

"No, no. He–" she hesitated, before looking at him. "He _tried_ to, so I fought back–" 

" _Ssib–_ "

"–I did something he didn't like. I pissed him off, gosh, it felt so good pissing him off." 

He knew she was a fighter. Years of Mixed Martial Arts training told him that. 

When he first met her, she was trying to choke a man between her legs– her legs encircling the man's neck to lock his arms and head. It was an understatement to say he was shocked the first time he saw her doing a _triangle choke_ . He knew "shock" barely made up for it. What it did to him, in every sense of the word, was lock him in place, agape, and a bit… afraid, no, in _awe_. 

That first time he saw her wasn't the last. She was a friend of his workout buddy who was into MMA. Hoseok wasn't much into sports that had to physically hurt their opponent, but seeing her when they first entered the MMA gym was– he couldn't explain it. 

Then and there, he wanted to try MMA. Much to the horror of their manager who was afraid his face would have to use patches after patches of makeup to cover invisible bruises he would eventually have. 

It didn't matter. Besides, she didn't want to train him too anyway, after they secretly defied the management to try one session that easily became two. And he didn't know why she refused after that second time if they could hide so well. Maybe it was out of worry of being found out or probably just to tease him, she loved to do it. But many times he would just find himself watching– and cheering– not for his friend anymore but for her.

She could physically defend herself, alright. What he was worried about was emotional, mental harassment. 

"What happened?" His heart pounded.

She snorted. "I told him I didn't really want him. It was supposed to be a… one time thing, but," she hesitated. "He went to my apartment. Said he got... pictures of me and he'd show them to everyone."

She stopped abruptly, her eyes trained down, afraid of looking at him. In truth, he wanted to get there, search for that guy, and bury his fist on his face. But he wouldn't. He was not that kind of man. If he was to do something, it was to ensure that she had nothing to worry about, more so when it came to him. It was only _him_ , _Hoseok_ , Wonho to some, and they were alone. He hoped she knew she could say anything around him. And he'd still be there. 

"Sorry," she murmured, sniffing once more.

"No. You don't need to be. You told him off. It's the right thing to do. He's acting as if he owns you."

"I didn't listen to you. I'm so stupid! It's all my fault."

He covered his face in frustration. "How's that your fault? It's not your fault your boyfriend's abusive. He's blackmailing you!" 

For the second time that night, there was silence between them, this time heavier than the first one. It was not the first time he said to her what he was always thinking of day and night ever since he and their friends found out the guy was using her for money. Still, it didn't do anything to make it sound a little less heavy. 

He stood up, made sure his back was facing her, as he tried to contain himself. And in a much gentler voice, he said, "He's got no hold of you, Eun-a. If you want him off, then he _should_ be off." He looked at her, hoping to see she understood.

She glanced up at him briefly. "I'm just sorry I didn't–" she looked back at him, and this time, with a firmer tone, she said something that made him want to reach for her even more. "–call you sooner." 

He sighed, closing his eyes as he placed both his hands behind his head before rearranging his bonnet. 

When he opened his eyes, he caught her staring back at him, offering him a gentle smile as if she was apologizing to him for giving him unnecessary burden. She was never a burden to him. She should know that. She just needed to say the word, and he would drop everything to get to her. 

Slowly, he stepped closer, hands inside his pocket to avoid them from holding her. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter now, right? He’s gone?” 

She nodded. “Yes. But I just ran, though, so I'm not sure. It's all a mess. I don't even know if there are pictures. I didn't demand for it." She groaned. "I can't go back. He might still be there, you know?”

He nodded in understanding and was about to offer his apartment, when, "Just walk me to a hotel. I'll book a room."

He didn't like the idea. 

He took his bag. "I won't push you, but I'm offering my apartment for the night until you're ready to go back and settle everything in the morning. It's safer until we get the police," he said, but _damn_ he didn't want to sound presumptuous, so he added, _he hated saying it next_ , "but if you decided for the hotel, I'll walk you there. You got my number anyway, right?" 

She nodded. He waited for her answer. 

As always, it felt like forever for him whenever she contemplated something he said, when, in truth, it was only a few seconds that passed. But as if fate did not want to fever him with monstrous thoughts any more than it did, he didn’t have to wait for too long. 

"I'll go with you." 

  
  


*****

  
  


It was 3:30 AM when they reached his apartment. 

Looking inside, Eun-a noticed how tasteful yet simple it was– from the white walls down to the modern dark wood flooring. His living room was spacious, more due to minimal furniture than anything else, she thought. There was only a wide screen TV across the sofa and the coffee table. That's it.

But if his living room was spacious, his kitchen seemed to be fully-equipped– fridge, counter top, an electric stove, pans, bowls, everything a food lover would ever want.   
  
And then, he opened his room. "You can stay here. I'll just be outside. But first," he paused, smiling wide at her, showing his perfect teeth. "Can I use the shower?" 

She laughed as she shooed him to do as he pleased, because this was his apartment and she was the one taking up his space. 

She placed the few groceries, mostly toiletries, she bought in the convenience store on top of his drawer, before sitting on the bed and looking around. 

His bedroom was not as spacious as his living room, but it was the most, _how would she describe it_ , it looked to be where he spends most of his time. It was not that it was messy. Hoseok had to have the cleanest apartment out of everyone in his neighborhood.

But the space felt personal. Almost… intimate. As if she was seeing something she was not supposed to see. Like the cute _Bebegom_ stuffed toy sitting on the corner of his bed, looking at her or some colorful notes and letters lying beside legal documents that she knew were about his case. She closed her eyes for a second. _Thank God it's over._

Looking now at his bed, she peeked into the strange feeling of being around him. Maybe it was also because his sheets, although tuck neatly, were crumpled, his pillows strewn over as if he slept on it far too much. And it smelled of him too, like soap and–  
  
“Eun-a!” he shouted, interrupting her thoughts as the shower went off.

“Yes?” 

“See if you can find anything in the closet. You can take my clothes.” The shower went back on. 

She stood up and did as he said. He had a few clothes– gym clothes, some casual ones, underwear, nothing fancy at all. Probably because he was on break.

She took a black cotton shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, before grabbing the underwear she bought in the convenience store. 

And then the door to the shower room opened. 

She hoped she didn’t look too shocked or too pleased or _too much_ at him while he was wiping his feet on the bathroom mat with only a towel on his waist. He grinned at her, oblivious to being half naked in front of her. 

“Excuse me. I’ll just get this and this one, uh, and this one. Your turn!” He waved and left the room quickly.

She was pinned to her place. How could he be bigger, more perfectly... sculpted than he already was the last time she saw him? She shook her head.

She took a quick shower before putting on _his clothes_ , his shirt reaching past her knees. And slept. 

  
  
It was 9 AM when she woke up the next day. And she feared it was more because of the smell of pancakes than the feeling of being well-rested. 

She quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth, took her eyeglasses, before drawing herself out of the room. 

A black cap worn backwards replaced Hoseok's bonnet from the night before. And nothing was in place to cover his chest. She had to thank the sweatpants for being there, though. 

"Good Morning!" he greeted, waving a kitchen turner towards her. 

She groaned before going back to his room, taking a grey shirt. She threw it at him as she walked nearer. 

"Cover yourself. You're distracting." 

He looked at her, surprised, a smile lingering on his lips. 

“See?” she asked, standing near him as she looked at the pancakes. “That’s how we feel when men ask us what to wear.” 

He passed her the turner as he put on the shirt. “You've met the wrong guy.”

“Uh-huh. Point taken.” And then, "Let's watch something," she said, giving him back the turner before racing him to the living room. 

MMA on JTBC Golf&Sports was on. They ate silently in the living room as they watched. Hoseok poured some orange juice into her glass and passed it on to her. She murmured her thanks over a mouthful of pancakes. 

“Question?”  
  
“Mm-hm?” She said as she took her glass.

She was sipping on her orange juice, waiting for his question about that double leg takedown the fighter just did, when, “Why don’t you want to train me?” She sputtered. 

Hoseok laughed as he stood up, took the tissue container from the kitchen counter, and passed it on to her. “No, seriously. I’m going to pay, 100%. No friendly discounts!” 

She took her time drinking slowly to better address the…uh, situation. She was thinking of what to tell him and was trying to mouth some answers, when she gave up.

“Okay, stand up.” 

Hoseok’s eyes widened as he laughed at her sudden proposition. “What? Now?”

She nodded and took her stance, her power leg back, her lead foot forward, chin down, fists up high. Hoseok did the same. Or at least he tried, because he was laughing in that booming, contagious laugh that made him so unlike his large build. 

“ _Gyiyeowo!_ " he said pointing at her.

“Stop laughing!”

“You look like _gimbap,_ ” he exclaimed, bowling over as he held his stomach, still laughing at her. She knew what she looked, alright. Being smaller than him, she was almost completely enveloped in his black shirt. She knew, okay?

She had enough of it. Without words, she waged an inside trip over him, eventually taking him down the carpeted floor. 

She knew she had taken him aback, but he was still plagued by bouts of laughter, when to her astonishment, she lost her balance as his weight pulled her down, only to fall over him. 

She listened as his laughter died down, stared as he stared back. Bare faced, with steady, warm caramel eyes focused on her, perfectly sculpted nose, and a trail to his cherry lips, he looked almost like those sculptures she had often seen in books.

And then, she lost her mind. From where she was on top of him, she pushed upward on her arms and kissed him. 

She felt his arms encircling her, his other hand suddenly behind her head, pushing her deeper towards his mouth.

She pulled back, looking at his lips, embarrassed to look anywhere near his eyes. She buried her face on his chest. "See? You're so distracting. It's a bad idea training together." She groaned. "We're in so much trouble." 

She didn't see the smile that slowly crept up his lips, opening wide for a grin. 

"I can keep a secret, though." 

She hit him with his cap as she stood up. 

_Everybody wants what they want,_  
_Love who they love,_  
_I wouldn’t judge,_  
_And I can keep a secret so…_

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I don't know, but there's something intimate about writing in the middle of the night about two people, sitting on the bench outside a convenience store, just talking to each other. 
> 
> Unlike my earlier work, "Love U", which is, for me, a light, almost cutesy story about a kind of "friendship" that later on evolved into something deeper, "Got My Number" is a bit heavier. Let's face it. The song itself almost talks about "cheating", right? But because I don't approve of it (HAHA surprise!), I put a twist into it that hopefully captured a story that portrays Hoseok (Wonho) as someone who is always present for somebody else. Someone who loved the fictional Eun-a without judgment. 
> 
> Eun-a, on the other hand, might be a fictional character, but she is oh so lightly based on Song Ka Yeon, a Korean MMA fighter who appeared on Roommate (2014) and an episode of Running Man. Keyword/s: Oh so lightly. 
> 
> In the end, what I really just want to say is that with all things happening today, let us hold on to the ones we love. And never let them go.


End file.
